P is For Permission And Power

…and the patience to wait for miracles that take their time.

We are taught to ask for permission from the moment we can speak.
May I sit here? May I leave the table? May I be me?

And somewhere along the way — between expectations and disappointments — we forget that the most important kind of permission isn’t given by others. It is claimed.
Quietly. Boldly. Repeatedly.
We give it to ourselves.
To be seen. To be whole. To want more. To walk away.
To try again — even when failure clings to us like a scent we can’t scrub off.

But it’s more than that.

Permission means daring to love again after heartbreak reconfigured our view of intimacy. It means starting over — in careers, in relationships, in cities — without needing the world’s understanding or applause. It means changing the course of your life at any point in time when your soul whispers that it’s time.

It means setting boundaries that protect your peace — not because you owe anyone an explanation, but because you finally understand that peace is sacred.
Power doesn’t always look like loud declarations.
Sometimes, it is a quiet, internal shift. A decision you make at 2am while staring at the ceiling. A gentle but firm no more or not this or I choose me this time.
This is where power begins.

Not in having all the answers but in trusting that you are allowed to ask the questions.
Not in control, but in clarity. The clarity that you don’t have to keep playing a role you’ve outgrown. That it’s okay to rewrite your script — no matter how late in the play you decide to. We hold the power to decide the trajectory of our lives. To pivot. To pause. To pursue what makes our hearts beat faster — even if no one else understands why. To say: I know it doesn’t make sense on paper, but it feels right in my bones.

But let’s not romanticise this too much. Permission and power don’t mean the path becomes easy. They don’t guarantee that manifestations happen like magic or miracles.
They don’t mean we get it right the first time — or even the second. Sometimes the miracle is slow. Sometimes, it comes disguised as disruption. Sometimes, it feels like loneliness before it feels like freedom. That’s where patience comes in. Because being #Unshakable isn’t about skipping the discomfort — it’s about being grounded through it. Rooted. Unwavering.

Alive enough to feel everything but wise enough not to be consumed by it. We must be gentle with our becoming. We must learn to stop asking for permission to dream, to grow, to evolve. We must realise that the power to begin again is always within us — but so is the responsibility to honour the process.
It takes courage to give yourself permission. To walk away from something that’s ‘fine’ but not fulfilling. To risk being misunderstood in the pursuit of your own clarity. To break your own heart if it means freeing your future. Because truthfully, many of us aren’t waiting on divine signs. We are waiting on ourselves. To stop doubting. To stop shrinking.
To believe that we are already worthy of the next best version of our lives.
So here it is:
Give yourself permission to be as powerful as you were created to be.
To change your mind. To change your path. To change your name, your hair, your city, your dream — if it means honouring your truth.

And never forget:

You don’t need to be fearless. You just need to be faithful — to the whisper inside that says not yet, not this, not anymore. Your next chapter is not waiting on permission.
It’s waiting on you.

‘See’ you next week!